So Called Mates PART 1
by rockthe40oz
Summary: Renton and Spud try drinking milk to help them get to sleep. Rated M for language and future chapters.


**So Called Mates**

**Prelude (Spud's Point of View):**

Whenever us boys wis sharin a rum, I alwis slept on tha floor. It wis kind of just expected aff me, ah guess, an ah never really thought much o it. Ah actually like sleepin oan tha floor, nice flat surface, ye know? Good fir yer posture an whatnot. So even when I have a bed available tae me, sometimes ah opt fir tha floor.

Nice thing about sleepin oan tha floor is tha little details. When ye stay in one place fer long enough, ye start tae see parts o it ye never even noticed befir. Like in Mother Superior's, there wis a big wad aff chewin gum ground inae the carpet next tae the sofa. Ah dunno ow long it wis there fir, but it was still nice an chewy. Cotton candy flavoured, mah favourite.

Ah goat a trouble goin tae sleep at night, alwis have. When ah wis little, me em an pee thought ah wis, like, tryin tae disobey them when ah couldn't fall asleep. Ah wake up a lot, too, like fir a few minutes.

Sometimes ah peek at me mates frim a slit in mah eyes, jist cause there aint anythin better tae do. An again wit the small details, like. Franco sleeps wif his eyes an mouf shut, but he alwis looks like he's just pertendin tae sleep. Like he could jump up an grab ye anytime he felt like it. An he snores like ye wouldn't believe.

Sick Boy don't do much, except his mouf kind of falls open and he gurgles. First time it scared me a little, like he wis chokin.

Rents don't snore, but he awis looks funny when he's asleep. He crosses his arms over his chest, like he's tryin tae protect himself frim the world. Or he lays on his side, wif his legs pulled up tae his chest. Ah dunno ow he's comfirble like tha, looks godawful tae me.

**Part 1:**

**Milk**

The wind blew through the cracks in the wall, biting cold. Spud lay in the corner of the Mother Superior's, bundled up to his chin in a blanket. His teeth were chattering and his eyes were wide open, he'd been woken by the wind.

Spud rolled over. It was freezing, he was hungry, and he needed a hit. Maybe some speed. But the rain was heavy and the winds were bordering on dangerous, and Spud was already thoroughly cold. He looked across at Renton, who was lying on his side, arms wraped around himself, shivering.

Just then, Rents eyes popped open. He squinted at Spud and sat up, franticly pulling at the blankets.

"Some kind a fuckin weather, innit Spud?" Mark reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

"Yeah, ah heard it's supposed tae be tha wirst in like ten years."

"Aye, sounds like it is."

"Ye think Swanney's got any mir blankets round here?"

"Might be, but ah doubt it. He aint really tha type tae keep a surplus o fuckin blankets about."

Spud sniffed and sat up. "I can't get tae sleep."

"Ah've been up an down as well, fuckin breeze don't help matters much."

Spud said nothing for a moment, then a smile spread across his face. "Know what we aught tae do, Rents? We aught tae have us two big glasses aff milk. Helps make ye tired." He jumped to his feet and stumbled into the Mother Superior's kitchen, almost tripping over a chair leg. "Yeah, ah knew there wis milk in here!"

Renton leaned against the wall and listened to his friend noisily getting together two glasses of milk. There was a small crash towards the end of it, and Sick Boy grunted in his sleep.

"Here we go, one fir you an one fir me." Spud handed Renton a dull yellow mug with a chip out of it. Renton nodded and glanced at Spud's mug, which was florescent pink and in the shape of a pig.

"Cheers." Renton said, half smiling.

"Cheers, catboy."

They clanked the mugs together and raised them to their lips. Mark chugged down a big gulp, and the instant the sour, chalky substance touched his tongue it was spit right back up, all over Spud's shirt. Spud's face contorted in an expression of disgust and horror, and he too spit out the stale milk. Renton made a ghastly, throaty noise and started gagging.

"Rents, you okay? You okay?" Spud forgot about the milk and scooted closer to Renton. He slapped his back, hard, and said, "Common, get it all up Rents."

Renton jerked away from him and spun around. "Fir fucks sake! What're ye tryin tae do, poisin us? Ah'd think that wis enough, but no, ye gotta fuckin beat on me while ah choke! Fuckin doss cunt!"

"Ah wis jist tryin tae help."

Mark looked at Spud, his shirt soaked with milk, sitting crosslegged on the floor. He looked so comical, so concerned, so exaggerated that Renton couldn't help but laugh. At first he chuckled, but it wasn't long before he was in the throes of full fledged hysteria. "Yer a fuckin nutter, Spud..."

Spud was laughing too, doubled over, his hands over his face. "It didn't smell stale!" he giggled, pawing at Renton's shoulder. "Ah swear it didn't smell spoilt at awl!" Renton looked at Spud, laughing so hard he seemed to be in great pain, and started howling all over again.

After the laughter subsided, Spud leaned up close to Renton and wiped his chin with his sleeve. "Got some...mess on yer face, Rent Boy."

"Thanks. Ye know, ah guess it wasn't so bad really. I'm tired now anyway."

"Sure. That's what friends is fir, huh catboy?"


End file.
